


Describe the Pair of Shoes That Changed Your Life

by mossylog5



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-22
Updated: 2016-10-22
Packaged: 2018-08-23 22:17:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8344858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mossylog5/pseuds/mossylog5
Summary: The beginnings of a college essay on the enigmatic Fox Mulder





	

**Author's Note:**

> This might be a one-shot? It began as a way to vent my frustrations at scholarship essays so...

_“Describe the pair of shoes that changed your life,” the prompt read, the deliberate vagueness taunted Scully. She rolled her eyes, cringing at the thought of yet another so called ‘fun’ college essay question. Shoes were just shoes; one pair of keds for everyday wear, some ratty Doc Martens from an all to embarrassing punk phase. Sighing, she glanced around the room and her eyes fell on a simple pair of heels, professional and utilitarian, resting in the corner. Well, that'll have to do, Scully thought to herself. She got up from the uncomfortable desk chair and reached down,grasping the shoes delicately by the heel. She set them gently onto the desk and sat down to work._

_The fir_ st thing he said to me was about my shoes. I’ll have you know, these were sensible shoes, dark blue with little rhinestone at the buckle. Not something I would have normally worn, they were my mother’s. I had only put them on for the first AP gov mock trial, as much as I would have rather been wearing a scuffed pair of combat boots. Walking into class I remember feeling like an impostor toddling around in my mother’s heels in a game of dress up.Trying for an air of sophistication, I walked toward my front-row seat, not so much by choice but fate of the alphabet. I always resented teachers that thought that the end-of-the-alphabet names needed a shot at front row. I’m sure most of us were perfectly happy lording over our little back row kingdoms. Looking back, I couldn't be more thankful for that alphabetical seating, right next to Fox Mulder. I oft think of what would have happened if an O'Neill or Roberts was in first period AP gov, but that’s simply not what happened.

“Where are the Docs?” The first thing he ever said, a comment on my damn shoes. I must have looked puzzled for a moment but followed his gaze to my heel-clad feet.

“McClaren did tell us to dress nicely,” I retorted, crossing my arms. I didn’t know the fashion police were in my gov class. Fox Mulder cracked a smile and responded, “Hey, I wasn’t critiquing, just observing. Besides, they look good on you.” Stifling a snort, I cast my eyes to the teacher who had begun to go over the bulletin or something equally dull. Next thing I knew, a balled up piece of paper arrived on my desk. I glanced over at Mulder who had an expression of feigned innocence, staring intently at our teacher. Gingerly, I opened the note and read _“Your obvious insecurity over wearing fancy, attractive clothing are usually masked by the persona black clothing and heavy boots provide; the absence of which you feel vulnerable_." I turned and gave him an annoyed look, the first of many.Then, tearing out a piece of notebook paper, I scribbled a response. _“Your compulsion to analyze my wardrobe choices in relation to my possible insecurities prove that you have more time in this class observing me more than our teacher and the result is a strikingly childish way of flirting-- trying to prove your intelligence whilst asserting dominance.”_ I then neatly folded the note and held it out in a palm, making no move to even conceal it. Mulder gently plucked it from my outstretched hand. He read it then gave me a wry smile. Pretending not to notice, I looked ahead in concealed eagerness. I didn’t have to wait long as a small origami crane arrived on my desk. After peeling it open I read, _“well, did it work?_ ” Then in smaller text at the bottom, _“Skinner’s books, Friday @ 6:30? Promise it’ll be more exciting than gov.”_ It was an enticing offer, but who did he think he was? With resignation I tore out a last strip of paper. “Maybe, but if I show up, It’ll be in combat boots.”


End file.
